


Somebody You've Only Just Met

by charleybradburies



Series: Soulmates in Burning Red [4]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anniversary, Announcements, Cunnilingus, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Fake Marriage, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Marriage, Medical Trauma, Miscarriage, Oral Sex, Parenthood, Past Violence, Relationship Discussions, Sexy Times, Undercover, Undercover as Married, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2091357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Ziva grow more comfortable in their married life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody You've Only Just Met

_**Thursday, ~0930** _

Tony wakes to a flash of light, not of sunlight but that which appears to be from his recently acquired iPad, and he turns over to Ziva with a groan.

“Tell me you’re not _reading_ ,” he grunts.

“Not a book, no,” she tells him, and her voice holds just enough perkiness that he can tell she’s been up for at least an hour and has had coffee. He lays his head on her chest, glancing up at the screen.

“Wedding anniversary ideas, hmm. You do know we’re not technically married yet,” he says.

“You do know that we technically have been married for five years?”

“Almost.”

“Shut up,” Ziva reprimands affectionately, and he tips his head up to hers and kisses her gently. She clicks the iPad off and sets it on the bedside table before laying back down, facing him. 

“How did you sleep, mon petit pois?”

“I slept well. I usually do, when you’re here.”

“Likewise,” she says pleasantly, resting a hand on his cheek. 

“I love you,” he mouths before kissing her again.

“I love you, too, Tony,” she replies breathlessly, and he peppers kisses down her shoulders. She giggles happily.

“Are we going to tell my dad?” Tony asks after a couple moments.

“Tell him what? That we love each other?”

“I don’t know. I just…he’s going to know that this more than an undercover deal, Z.”

“He has to play along anyway,” she says reassuringly, entwining their left hands.

“Yes, but he’s going to slap my back, call me Junior, and ask when we’re having kids, and what are we going to say then?”

“We...are working on it.”

“Seriously? That’s what you’ll tell him?”

“It is not…exactly a lie, no?”

“We’re playing out another couple’s life, Z. It’s not exactly a truth, either.”

Ziva’s face seems to fall, and Tony pulls a couple of inches away to look at her more clearly.

“What?”

“I just…it’s not just them. Any tests this fertility counselor does will not be on Dolly, they will be on me. Yes, they were looking into having a child, but we’ve taken their places. Everything that happens from here on out…is _us._ It will not be us having their child, Tony. It will be _us._ ”

“Only if you want it to be,” Tony says gently, noting that she’s tearing up. “I mean, we haven’t talked about a kid. If you don’t want that, right now or ever, we can just keep using condoms and not tell the doctor. Starting a family isn’t something we should do just because we’re impersonating a couple who wanted to, Ziva.”

“I - I know,” Ziva whimpers, and Tony wipes away a tear from her cheek. She sighs. “Motherhood…has been a problem in my family, Tony. My mother had trouble, I…have had trouble.”

“You tried to have a kid?”

“Well, not exactly. I - when I was in the military I became pregnant. I knew that my mother had great difficulty both with getting pregnant and with carrying Tali and I to term, but I believed that I was above that. Until…”

She gulps.

“I got shot. In the stomach. On duty. I woke up in the hospital a day later, and Ari, Eli, Deena, and Adam were there, crying, and-”

She stops trying to hold back her tears, and curls herself into Tony’s chest as they begin to fall, waiting another moment to continue speaking.

“I had a miscarriage. The doctor…the doctor attending to me told me that, with my mother’s history and with my injury, the chances were slim to none that I might ever be able to carry a child. I have _always_ wanted to, and there is no man with whom I would rather…but I do not know that it is even within the realm of possibility, Tony.” 

“Well…maybe it’s not. But if that’s what you want, then we’re sure going to try.”

“And what of what you want? Whatever happened to despising children? To being afraid of them?”

Tony purses his lips, and Ziva pulls away just far enough to look him in the eye.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever despised children, per se, I just…I’m so conscious of how much like my father I am, and - I could never live with myself if I put another human being through that, let alone a human being whose creation I played some part in…”

“You could not,” Ziva says emphatically. “Do that, I mean. You are too good a person, Tony. It is not that your father is bad…but he is not you, and you…”

She pauses, and he recognizes her awestruck expression.

“You are _so_ good. So intensely giving, and kind, and strong. You are so loving, and so…loved.”

Her voice trembles on her last word, and she presses her lips to his cheek for a couple of seconds. Tony smiles, pushing away the hair that’s fallen in front of Ziva’s face. Hand cupped gently around her neck, he pulls her back in for a deep, long, passionate kiss.

_**Thursday, ~1100**_

“Shouldn’t we at least call?” says Tim, worried by the apparent radio silence from his coworkers.

“Nah, McGee. Abby’s still got her ears on, we’ll know if something happens.”

“Do you think they’re still sleeping?”

“No, I think they’re up. Still in bed, looking at each other loudly enough that we could hear them, and periodically discussing their future.”

“Right.”

Abby strides into the bullpen.

“Oh, they’re not just _discussing_ their future,” she declares cheerily.

“What do you mean, Abs?” asks Gibbs.

“Who wants to guess what Ziva bought Tony for their anniversary?”

“It’s not _actually_ their anniversary, Abby,” Tim states, and she gives him a sisterly glare.

“Not my fault you’re not a romantic, Timothy!” she replies, entirely seriously, although still with a smile across her face.

“We’re working on it,” says Delilah as she walks over to them, leaning to Abby for a hug first, then kissing Tim on the cheek.

“Delilah, what are you doing here?” Abby enquires.

“Well, as much as I’d love to say this is a personal visit, I’m here to speak with Bishop. She’s my contact on a joint case, and I was told she was here. Thought I’d drop by, since I know the drive by heart in the first place.”

“Nice to see you, Agent Fielding,” says Bishop from behind them, waving at Delilah, who cheerfully waves back.

“By the way, where are Tony and Ziva?”

“Married,” Abby replies immediately, and Delilah’s eyes widen.

“Undercover,” adds Gibbs.

“You know, I wouldn’t be all that surprised,” says Delilah. “They seem good together. Although, I would be offended at not having been informed.”

She turns to leave for her meeting with Bishop, but Gibbs stops her.

“You’re invited to their aliases’s anniversary party on Saturday.”

“As whom?”

“My girlfriend, of course,” says Tim.

“I don’t get an alias?” she asks, seemingly offended.

“I’m one of Tony’s two younger brothers.”

“So I do get an alias?” she grins.

“Basically, yeah.”

“Cool,” she says declaratively, and walks away with an affectionate wave.

_**Thursday, ~1930**_

Ziva laughs at Tony’s wide-mouthed grin as she picks the car keys off of the coffee table in the living room.

“What?”

“You’re wearing those pants again,” he declares, looking up at her expectantly from his place on the couch.

“I am going to do yoga. And _you_ are reading.”

“It’s a magazine.”

“A women’s magazine.”

“That’s the only kind of magazine you bought, sweetheart, what else am I supposed to read?”

“Oh, I don’t know, a book?” she gives him a look that pretends to be judgmental but evinces her amusement nonetheless. There’s a knock at the door just then, and she yells that the door is unlocked. The door swings open and Trisha pops into the entryway.

“Ready?” she asks, her curls bouncing in behind her, as do Ziva’s when she turns to reply.

“Just about,” she says, leaning into Tony for a short, tender kiss before she and Trisha skip out the front door.

_**Thursday, ~2350**_

The headboard creaks again, even louder this time, almost as loud as Ziva’s own moaning, and although he isn’t looking he can tell she’s begun to grab hold of it. He smiles momentarily, then curls his lips around her clit again, sucking hard; he relishes that he can feel her entire body tremble above him with every thrust of his tongue inside of her.

“This is my favorite part, you know,” he moans, mouth still pressed to her vulva, his hot breath sending shivers up her spine. “The minute or so before you come…and you try so hard not to…and it never works….and I adore it. The way you taste, the way you curse, the way you quiver…the way you’ve easily woken up the whole block…again…and seemingly couldn’t care less…”

A laugh escapes her mouth along with another desirous groan; she half-heartedly slaps him on the chest, and he chuckles as he wraps his arms around her thighs and pulls her even tighter against his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” comes a high-pitched yelp a moment later, and Ziva collapses backwards. Knowing she’ll be too sensitive to touch, Tony twirls her body off of his and lays her parallel to him. She gives him a light kiss and a single grunt of thanks, and falls asleep with her hand on his chest and a smile on her lips. 

_**Friday, ~0925**_

“So, is yoga with Trisha going to be a routine event?” asks Tony as he sips his coffee, and Ziva teasingly glares at him across the table.

“Probably,” she replies. 

“Nice.”

“You do not care whether I do yoga; you just like the pants,” Ziva smirks, taking a forceful bite of pancake off of her fork. 

“Yes, I do. Oh, I wonder if they’d let me come watch.”

“I do not think the studio would be in support of that, Tony.”

“Yeah, but it’d be hot anyway.”

She giggles, licking her lips absentmindedly, but the ring of the doorbell draws her up from her seat. 

“Anthony, hello!” she says excitedly upon opening the door, and Tony groans but stands up to join her anyway.

“Dad.”

“Junior.” 

They shake hands, and after a pointed look from Ziva, Tony grabs his father’s suitcase and carries it inside, turning back when he sees a vaguely familiar figure heading up the path to the door.

“Linda?” he enquires.

“How’s my boy?” the woman says, opening her arms and handing off her suitcase.

“In his forties,” Tony replies, feigning annoyance but smiling as she hugs him and gives him a motherly kiss on the cheek. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” continues Linda as Tony gestures both guests inside. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve been, you know, busy.”

“With work,” Senior says grumpily.

“Yeah, you should try it sometime!”

“Oh, hush, both of you,” orders Ziva, shaking the other woman’s hand and introducing herself by both her own name and that of her alias as they head to the kitchen.

“Speaking of work, you know the drill, right?” she says to Tony’s father as she pulls two more chairs over to the table.

“No referring to either of you by your given names, only by your aliases; Tim and Jim are my sons, too, and various other family changes; I have to act like my son got his act together a long time ago and you two have been married for five years…yeah, I got the drill,” says Senior, and Tony only resists arguing because Ziva’s hand comes to rest reassuringly on his forearm. 

“On to the important things: now when am I gonna get some grandkids? None of us are getting any younger, you know.”

“I’m getting a drink,” Tony sighs, and Ziva rolls her eyes as he heads to the refrigerator.

“Grab me a soda,” she says, and he blindly tosses her a Diet Coke whilst pulling out a bottle of wine. She takes a sip before turning to Senior and saying, soberly, “we are working on it.”

“And if you ask again, you’re paying for the wedding,” adds Tony, half-jokingly, though his father and Linda look to him with expressions of shock and Ziva, affectionate scolding.

“Was that a little too forward?” he asks her, and she nods. 

“Just a little.”

“I’m kidding,” Tony declares, eyes still on Ziva though his words are directed more to his father. “Jethro is her dad, I’ll get him to pay.” 

Senior’s momentary shock wears off long enough for him to speak.

“Let me get this straight, I’m not asking in vain? You’re finally actually together now?”

“Yes, dad. We are actually together now…actually going to get married and actually trying to have a kid.”

Senior claps his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Congratulations, Junior!” he hollers ardently.

“And you, darling Ziva,” he winks.

“Well, nothing is official…yet,” says Ziva carefully, sharing a telling look with Tony. “But it will be, soon enough.”


End file.
